


To: Turning 20

by n_kei



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Coming Out, Friendship, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 04:31:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12005076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n_kei/pseuds/n_kei
Summary: It is 1 in the morning when Moon Bin comes face to face with the darkness of his apartment, blearily wondering how he got there.





	To: Turning 20

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, please heed the warnings in the additional tags. This is not a happy story, though it has an uplifting ending. I hope this is a relatable story for all those who are finding their own voice, dealing with being accepted, working to be more inclusive to others, and simply trying to find happiness.
> 
> Take care, and tread softly.

It is 1 in the morning when Moon Bin comes face to face with the darkness of his apartment, blearily wondering how he got there.

He was out with friends celebrating his coming of age, the big 20. Needless to say, there was enough soju and beer to go around the table; cheap and potent. It doesn’t have to taste good, as long as it peels open carefully constructed shells, too fast and trusting, exposing what’s underneath- even if there’s nothing to be shameful of.

Moon Bin turns 20 when comes out to his university friends.

It’s 2018, they say. Careful smiles and eggshell walking. Their words aren’t convincing, even to their own ears, and they flinch and look away. Moon Bin chuckles and wonders how the hell he’s managed to fuck up his birthday celebration so badly.

The friends start leaving at 12, even though the party has hardly begun. They had talked about clubbing and karaoke as round 2 and 3, but no one is in the mood anymore.

In the end, he is alone when Minhyuk finds him, a fortress of soju and beer bottles surrounding his slumped figure. Minhyuk silently regrets his decision to work his part-time shift at the gas station instead of shielding the bullshit from Bin’s supposed “friends”. But then again, he didn’t think this would happen. Not to Bin. Not to the boy with a big smile and an even bigger heart, always there, always bright and supportive.

Not until he’s received a paragraph from Bin, words slurred and incomprehensible in some parts, telling him what happened, did he realize the damage. That had been half an hour ago. In another 10 agonizingly long minutes, Minhyuk’s shift was over and he caught a taxi to reach Bin in record time.

Minhyuk toes around the bottles and sits across from Bin, the motion breaks his staring contest with the soju bottle and a picture of a sexy Hyorin on the side. Minhyuk gives a tentative smile as Bin reaches for his forearm, gives it a squeeze, while handing a shot of soju over with a shaky hand.

“To turning 20.” He tips his head back, a fluid moment, exposing his neck and adam’s apple as the alcohol burns down his throat.

Minhyuk feels helpless and takes a shot in solidarity, even though hates the taste of soju.

“I should’ve seen it coming.” Bin sighs into the soju bottle. Eyes too miserable for someone who was celebrating their birthday.

“It's not you." Minhyuk argues, furious and frustrated that he can’t do anything. "They’re the judgmental assholes.” He’s not good with comforting. But he’s always been there to support Bin; in dance, in school, and when Bin came out to him at 16, all red-cheeked and uncomfortable and in need of so much support.

“Let’s go home, Bin.” Minhyuk pushes, soft and insistent.

Bin chuckles painfully and nods. Party’s over.

He stumbles as he stands, and walks over to the kind old owner of the small hanwoo restaurant to pay for everyone’s tab, as per tradition. She frowns, sad, and says she’ll give him a discount. He shakes his head and pulls out a couple 50,000₩, and pockets the change from her outstretched, wrinkled hands.

Before he could step away, she folds his much taller form into a hug, and Bin feels the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. No words were said.

When she shifts backwards, her strong hands push his form towards Minhyuk’s receiving arms. “Take care of him.” She instructs the younger man, who nods quietly. Then she tucks a bag of hangover soup and rice under Minhyuk’s arm, and watches with maternal concern as they put their shoes on and make their way home.

With each step, Bin grows more sluggish against the biting winter winds. He has an arm around Minhyuk’s shoulder, and Minhyuk’s arm is wrapped securely around Bin’s waist. Mid-way, Bin slips into a slumber. An effective pile of muscles and bones, barely held together as the alcohol threatens to pull his molecules apart, or maybe that’s just how he feels. His balance is a mess, and it takes a bit of maneuvering, especially with the height difference, but Minhyuk refuses to give. Wordlessly, he heaves Bin’s mass onto his shoulder, and trudges on.

Ten minutes later, Minhyuk’s arms are tired, propping up Bin’s prone form against the wall as he punches the code into the keyed door, and the lock clicks open.

Bin shudders awake momentarily, suddenly aware of the warmth of the apartment, and almost smashes his head against wall as he tries to tug his shoes off.

“Be careful.” Minhyuk says behind him, quiet and low. With one arm wrapped around his waist and the other above his head shielding him from the impact, Bin wonders how he moves so quickly.

Once Bin has steadied again, Minhyuk reaches for the lights on the wall and flicks it on, a practiced motion with how often he visits his best friend.

“I’m putting the food in the fridge.” Minhyuk announces quietly. Bin makes a vague noise of acknowledgment, jacket, sweater, and pants already a trail behind him as he shuffles to the bed.

Minhyuk puts the soup in the fridge and pours two glasses of water before making his way to the bedroom as well. Bin is already on his bed, curled to the side, hugging his arms close to his heart. Minhyuk quietly settles the glasses on the night stand, and watches his friend from the side of the bed. The moonlight outlines Bin’s taut figure, as though pulled into a tight bow, tremors visible even in the limited lighting. The rest of the room is swallowed by a consuming darkness.

“Do you want me to stay over?” Minhyuk asked softly.

Bin nods his head, a small quiet sound . Minhyuk sighs and peels his jacket and sweater off, before squeezing into the space behind Bin. They’ve done this many times before. In fact, Minhyuk knows Bin can handle his alcohol, but he was never this heartbroken, never rejected by his friends.

Carefully, Minhyuk wraps an arm around Bin’s middle and pulls the taller closer to him. His thumb rubs comforting circles on Bin’s belly. It’s not easy being the bigger spoon when he’s a head shorter, but he manages.

“You’re 20. You can make new friends.” He says quietly.

And despite everything that has happened, Bin lets out a bark of laughter, voice cracking, cheeks streaked with tears. But the truth settles and he slowly turns to face Minhyuk. His hand reaches to cover Minhyuk’s smaller, rougher hand.

“Thanks, Hyukie.”

Minhyuk rolls to his back, melancholy pulling his body into the mattress only to be grounded by the bigger hand in his. “No problem, hyung.”

The sleep was uncomfortable. But at least they had each other.


End file.
